


Angels Don't Get Sick

by GreyMichaela



Series: One-Shots [19]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 07:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4778948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMichaela/pseuds/GreyMichaela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It occurs to me that I've written a lot of short drabbles on Tumblr lately but haven't shared them for y'all here, so I'm adding them now.  Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Angels Don't Get Sick

**Author's Note:**

> It occurs to me that I've written a lot of short drabbles on Tumblr lately but haven't shared them for y'all here, so I'm adding them now. Enjoy!

Gabriel didn’t get sick.  Angels in general didn’t get sick.

“I’m not sick,” he told Sam, and sneezed.

“Uh huh,” Sam said.  He pulled out the thermometer and Gabriel eyed it warily.  “Open wide,” Sam said.

Gabriel muttered something uncomplimentary about Sam’s ancestors and opened his mouth.

He tried to talk with the thermometer in place and Sam placed one long finger on his lips, freezing him where he sat.  Gabriel’s eyes crossed trying to see the thermometer, and he sighed in relief when Sam pulled it out to read it.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up.  “A hundred and two degrees, Gabriel, how are you  _mobile_?”

“I’m not sick!” Gabriel insisted, crossing his arms and scowling at him and then ruined it with another sneeze.

“Bed,” Sam said, catching Gabriel’s elbow and pulling him to his feet.  “Come on, march.”

Gabriel dug in his heels.  “Not.  _Sick_ ,” he said through his teeth.

Sam had that look on his face, the one that made Gabriel want to either kiss him or punch him, the mother hen look that drove Gabriel  _wild_.  “Anyone else would be out of their head with the fever you’ve got running,” Sam said gently.  “Face it, Gabe, you’re sick.  And that means bed until we’ve at least got the fever under control.”

“Bed is boring,” Gabriel pointed out in his most reasonable tone.  “It’s boring and you won’t be there and I won’t have anyone to talk to and I don’t  _want_  to, Sam!”  Okay, so that might not have been his most reasonable tone.  Considering the way the room was tilting and his head was spinning, he thought he’d done pretty well.

“Who says I’m leaving you?” Sam said, a furrow between his brows.

“Oh,” Gabriel said.  “In that case… would you mind carrying me?  Because I think I might be about to pass out.”  His last sight was Sam lunging forward, and then his world went dark.

 

He woke up tucked into Sam’s bed, a cool washcloth on his forehead and Sam a long, delicious line of heat against his side.  Gabriel sighed and turned toward him, curling into Sam’s warmth.

“I’m not sick,” he said, “but if I were, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have taking care of me.”

Sam smiled down at him.  “Hurry up and get better so I can kiss you,” he said.


End file.
